


Breathe

by SabbathPurr



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Anxiety Disorder, Drama, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23255185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbathPurr/pseuds/SabbathPurr
Summary: Regina lives a life ruled by anxiety and the loneliness it leaves her with. By day she teaches some of her former students online. By night, she struggles to start another manuscript—terrified at the prospect of any new work sounding as hallow as she feels. But when she decides to write a note to Emma, a server at Happy Daze Diner, she does so in the hopes of being understood, if only by one person.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	Breathe

Whenever Regina sat in a restaurant, she thought about who she used to be. She knew she'd never been sweetness and light or god's gift to humanity, but at least she'd been normal. That train of thought put her on edge, made her heart hammer in her ears. It also made it hard to breathe. If she could accept who she'd become—and that she'd never lose all of herself, people wouldn't look at her like her intestines were on the outside of her body.

She had trouble pinpointing the looks people gave her because she didn't want to pin anything down, make it real. She pushed it aside because they didn't know her after all. She'd never see the people again. Except for the times when she would, and they remembered her.

Kathryn, best friend for the last fifteen years of her life, and bonafide pain in the ass loved dragging her to Happy Daze Diner—in business since the eighties. A name about as New York as it got in the city, with an air to match. A candy apple red jukebox caught your eye from the window, waitresses donned poodle skirts, roller skating around like they'd been trained for years prior, while the men wore bright red varsity jackets, their names gleaming at you on the front in gold satin.

Regina never hated a place more. It tried too hard to recreate something better left in the past. Kathryn on the other hand bounced in the booth like a five-year-old each time they went, starting up the jukebox within seconds of their arrival. Since the place was family-owned, the same servers were there all the time. They'd gotten Emma their first visit, when Regina was worse off, and going by the look Regina knew to be absolute dread, Emma would wait on them again.

Her hands were shaking so much she set her menu down, smoothing nonexistent creases.

“It's okay,” Kathryn whispered, eyes soft.

“Want me to order for you?”

Regina shook her head.

“How will I get better if you do?”

Kathryn said nothing for a moment, then cleared her throat.

“That rhymed. Should we keep it going?”

Regina snorted at the grin on her friend's face.

“We aren't living in a Doctor Seuss book.”

“Thanks for reminding me. Not having to pay taxes would be grand, Sam I am.”

Regina flicked to the second page of her menu, the comfort and affection she felt belling the edge in her look.

“Please stop.”

She knew Kathryn was only trying to relax her, and she appreciated that. At the same time, her relaxing methods often backfired, tensing Regina even more. If they carried on normal conversation, with nothing brimming under the surface, Regina might form clear, confident sentences to their server. She wouldn't feel like a copy of Les Miserables was strapped to her chest.

“Hi there,” Emma said in her usual placid tone. She directed her greeting to the both of them, but looked just at Kathryn as she did. It sank Regina's heart every time, and today was no exception.

Regina had planned to say hello, but with the woman's expectant gaze set on Kathryn, what was the point when she didn't exist? Her eyes fell back down to the menu.

Kathryn gave her order then looked to Regina, cheering her on in silence.

“Sorry,” Regina said just below a whisper.

She made eye contact for half a second before her eyes landed on the woman's collar bone and didn't budge. She hadn't looked long enough to catalogue Emma's expression, but knew it hadn't changed from last time. The words came out in a rush.

“I'll have the chicken sandwich and a side of green beans.”

“Which chicken sandwich?”

“I”m sorry,” Regina said, their eyes connecting for another half second. Pity or confusion? Perhaps both. Her answer stuck in her throat, and even though she didn't dare ask for Kathryn's help, she amended Regina's order.

She gave Emma a closed-lip smile, not wanting to shift the focus from Regina too much. Of course her plan backfired, with Emma's full attention on Kathryn again. You'd think she'd be used to being a human repellant by now, but it seemed that with each time someone ignored her, the more she felt like her existence didn't matter at all.

“Great. I'll be back with your orders in a flash.”

Regina slid down far enough to almost disappear. She squeezed the cloth napkin next to her, remembering to breathe.

“You did fine,” Kathryn said in the soft tone she reserved for her friend.

“She thinks I'm a psychopath.”

Kathryn scoffed, waving the comment.

“She's too busy thinking about her own problems—she looked very distant today.”

“Yes, because she distanced herself from the atrocity she'd have to endure.”

“Will you stop? What about the drunks that inevitably walk through the door? What about people who grope or patronize her? _Those_ are atrocities, Regina.”

“God. When will I get over this? When will I stop being afraid of people—my death bed? Not that I don't love you Kath, but I need to be able to go places without you.”

Kathryn reached for her hand and squeezed. “I know. But you have made progress. I know it doesn't seem like it to you, but I see it. First time we where here, you spoke so softly _I_ couldn't even hear you.”

“Oh, god, that--”

“Is over,” Kathryn said, tone sharp.

“You _will_ get better. By continuing to talk to people who aren't me.”

Regina pulled her hand away, unable to respond. She looked out the window until the sting left her eyes.

“People were always drawn to me, and that's what's killing me most. Now I'm someone people can't stand to even look at.”

She made up her mind, to do something so at least one outsider could understand. As they ate, the words of her letter were already forming in her mind.

* * *

Regina sat in her office that night, hunched over her desk. She'd completed the forth and final draft of her letter to Emma. She placed the first draft next to it, thinking of it as a manuscript with a deadline so she'd be able to follow through. She pinched the bridge of her nose while re-reading the first thing she came up with.

_Dear Emma,_

_I'm sorry that I never look you in the eye. You've done nothing wrong. I've battled severe anxiety for years now. You are great at your job, and I look forward to seeing you again soon._

_-Regina M._

“Horrendous,” She shook her head.

Her eyes slid over to the final draft.

_Dear Emma,_

_Severe anxiety is the reason I never look you in the eye. I'm uncomfortable with myself, not you or anyone there. Well, except for the cardboard cutout of your boss by the jukebox. That can get uncomfortable when it catches in my peripheral vision, but those not made of cardboard are exceptional. Your service is always top-notch. I'm working on getting back to my usual self, and it'll take a long time to get there. I'm not looking for sympathy or asking you to bend over backwards for me—just stating facts. I expend a lot of energy in the smallest of interactions, and if I don't look up at all, it means I'm just telling myself to breathe._

_I hope you're well, and I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon._

_-Regina_

* * *

She knew the longer she waited to send the letter, the worse she'd feel. Even if Emma didn't care about the contents, this was an important step to take, and accomplishing it mattered. Kathryn wouldn't be bugging her to go to Happy Daze until next week with the both of them drowning in work. Kathryn had been her teaching assistant three years ago, when her anxiety didn't control every aspect of her life. Teaching six-year-olds wasn't her breaking point, though it did test her patience. It was more the uncertainty of life in the twenty-first century and how she'd be able to protect her kids in a crisis. They deserved someone whose brain wouldn't shut down when they needed her.

She now taught some of her former students online, and could interact with them too. For a while, fiction writing dissolved a good deal of her anxiety, until she began second guessing herself; especially in times of high stress. She kept a copy of her first published work on her desk to motivate her and bring back the joy she'd lost. It hadn't done much. In fact it now seemed to regress her, push her from any sort of creative writing.

Finding an envelope, she wrote Emma's name on the front and put it on top of her desk hutch. Now she wouldn't be distracted by it while she worked. She'd slip it underneath the door Saturday morning, quick as a lightning bolt.

* * *

Seeing the diner's empty parking lot set her a little more at ease, but not by much. Fear grew in her belly and spread to her lungs until she couldn't breathe, her feet frozen halfway to the door. She wasn't a goddamn lightning bolt. She was the debris after a bad storm, the kind people tripped over. If she just ripped that envelope in half she could breathe again. But it would also create more problems, and if she couldn't do something so simple and benign, who knew where she was headed?

She sighed, flattening the envelope into a pancake that'd fit under the tiny gap in the door. She thought about Emma's reaction. She knew it wasn't a normal thing to receive today, but maybe that wouldn't matter because it'd be something new and unexpected? The envelope just fit, and Regina hightailed it like she'd set the place on fire, lightning bolt after all.


End file.
